Breaks
by Orange Seltzer
Summary: Everyday she breathed in her sin. She knew in her heart it was worth it, right?[Tabby]


Disclaimer: I don't own X-men Evo, or the characters. Except Dwight, and even than I named him after the guy in The Office.

X.x.x.x.X

"Hey, Smith. Your break's now."

She headed out the door; into an alley that smelled of the cigarettes she smoked too often. Lighting another one-her third today-breathing in her sin, it was too delicious, too dangerous. Just Tabitha Smith's thing. Risking her life for ultimate pleasure, making stupid choices so she could have a quick fuck, a high, a buzz. Forget regrets, if she believed in those she'd have a mountain on her shoulders. No, let impulses rule her, because really, what's regret going to get you? She realized a long time ago that lamenting got you nothing; you had to move on, keep pushing forward.

Although, she have a hard time letting go of _him_. Maybe it was the voice with a tinge of German in it, or that blue skin that melted into shadows. Or maybe she just liked corrupting him, and getting him in bed would make her bored with him. It was like that with most guys (or girls, because hey, she liked boobs as much as a guy did) for Tabitha. Let them into her pants, and as soon as he's out, he's sure to make her yawn. Or the other way around for some cases.

Breath in, like the chemicals seize her tongue, her mouth, her lungs. Let her teeth (along with the lack of teeth brushing) yellow, it was worth it. The addiction always made it worth it. She finished the cigarette, stamping out the ashes with her clunky Doc Martens. The embers died and were scattered by a random gust of wind. It was the first day of spring, but she wished she had brought her coat from her locker. Checking her watch, she saw she had seven minutes left. Working for the fast food industry didn't pay well, but she needed the cash to support her habits. Sure, saying, "Hi, how can I help you?" In a peachy voice, and donning an ugly black and red shirt wasn't exactly dignifying; especially when her ex-teammates would show up. The X-Men didn't say anything, but their looks of pity, trying to understand her were agonizing. The Brotherhood were different. They'd come in and mock her, make her craving for a cigarette, her comfort, more straining. The worst part was she couldn't tell them to shut the hell up, get off their asses, and find jobs themselves. She would one day.

Another cigarette devoured, and she reached for something stronger this time. Cannabis, something she had to do without at the mansion (Logan's nose) and did at the Brotherhood, but not without at least three others helping themselves to her weed. Todd was even worse high, bouncing around, laughing like a kid given laughing gas at the dentist's office.

They say it equals three (or four, or whatever) joints to equal one cigarette. Tabby didn't care, assumed her life was a waste; a couple more brain cells terminated wouldn't matter. Making a time bomb, she lit the rolled paper with it, and threw it onto a lone shoe, making it explode. Cindering canvas landed at her feet, but she wouldn't care, even if she weren't high. Suck it in, take it in, let it take effect. The rush of calm fell over her, mellowing her out. Sure, her boss Dwight might notice her slowed speech and pupils, but she knew enough about him to keep him quiet.

She wished she hadn't been quiet about her feelings for Blue. What was his name-Kirt? Kyle? Kurt? Yeah, it was Kurt, but "Blue" fit him so well, especially when he was down. In the beginning she was contemplating calling her beloved Nightcrawler "Emo Boy" or "Emo Kid" just to piss him off, because he was positively adorable when he pouted and was angry. But Blue stuck, nobody with that color skin (fur? It was too hard to tell with the pot infecting her brain) could get away without being called that. And the best part was that he responded to it; his narrow cheeks turning an attractive shade of plum that would reappear every time she looked at him. Like her powers, she caused a reaction.

Three more minutes. Time to pollute her body with one more puff of Mary Jane, and a couple inhales of another Camel. She had started smoking when she was eleven, learned it from who else, but her father? Her mother didn't know, and Tabby wanted to keep it that way. After all, her mother had been a smoker for twenty-three years, and was now suffering (and losing) from lung cancer. But sometimes addiction's more powerful than that, sometimes it draws people in until it's the one thing they need. It hadn't gotten to Tabitha like that yet, but there was still plenty of time.

Thirty seconds. She breathed in the carbon like it was the last thing on earth, like it was her final breath. Stamping it in with-could it be?-regret; she headed back inside to help people clog their arteries.

Everyday she breathed in her sin.

X.x.x.x.x.X

Don't smoke kiddies! But you can review.P


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